One Flu Over the Cuckoo's Nest
by serenelystrange
Summary: Parker is sick. Eliot & Hardison are taking care of her. Also, this is not the beginning of a porno, promise. Written for Ele. A semi-sequel to 'Cold Feet.' E/H established relationship. So.. slash-ish. Nothing explicit. Hope ya like, Ele!


A/N- Hope you like it, Ele!

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When Hardison awakes to a falling weight on his bed, he grins, expecting strong arms to pull him close. When all he hears is rustling, his eyes shoot open and he turns to stare at the space beside him.

"Parker," he sighs tiredly, "You can't keep showing up in the middle of the night."

Parker doesn't speak, just murmurs into the bedspread and curls herself up into a tight ball.

"Parker," Hardison tries again, reaching out to brush her hair out of her eyes. He stops short as his fingers brush her forehead and he pulls back quickly.

"Jesus, mama, you're burning up," he says, alarm evident in his voice.

"Sick," Parker says, hollowly, as she shivers in place.

Hardison sits up and turns to the girl again, holding his hand flat over her forehead this time; her skin feels like fire against his.

"We should get you to the hospital," he says.

Parker's hand is wrapped tight around his wrist before he can move.

"No," she says. Her tone leaves no room for negotiation.

"You're fever is way too high, Parker, we need to go."

She just squeezes harder, her fingers burning into his wrist.

"Alright, alright," he concedes, "no hospital."

She releases his wrist and Hardison shivers at the sudden chill. Sighing, he climbs off the bed and moves to stand beside it. He scoops Parker up carefully and pulls back the covers, before setting her back down and securing the covers over and around her.

Parker murmurs again, but it's nothing more than nonsense, and she's asleep in the next moment.

Hardison peers at the harsh neon of his alarm clock, noting it's not as late as he thought, only half past one. Shrugging to himself, he lays back over the covers, letting the darkness lull him back into sleep.

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Hardison awakes again, but this time it's the insistent shaking of his shoulders to jar him, instead of a dip in the bed. He looks up, but it's still dark and he can barely see. After a moment, his vision adjusts and he sees non too happy blue eyes staring down at him.

"El?" Hardison doesn't understand why the man looks so angry at first, and then he remembers his earlier wake up call.

Eliot just glares, but it doesn't take a genius to see the hurt and insecurity behind the anger.

Hardison reaches up and fists a hand around the hitter's shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. Eliot still glares, but doesn't resist, and moves to hold himself just above Hardison's body, almost touching, but not quite.

"Not good enough."

Eliot chuckles at the hackers complaint, but allows the other man to nudge him into settling down, resting his body snug against the other man's.

Hardison runs his hands soothingly over Eliot's back as the other man decides to get back to kissing him senseless. Hardison finds that he's pretty ok with this plan. Until he remembers the sick thief laying beside them.

"Eliot, El, Ellll," the word gets drawn out when Eliot moves to pull at his earlobe. And honestly, he's never been the type to find ear biting hot, but Eliot makes everything intoxicating, without even trying.

He finally clears his head and fists a hand in Eliot's hair, pulling the other man's gaze to his own.

"We can't do this with Parker sleeping right there!"

Eliot merely looks amused.

"You'd rather wake her up?"

Hardison groans against the thought and the images it splays in his mind. Eliot just laughs, dirtily. Hardison thinks he's a goddamn tease, and tells him so.

"Not a tease if I follow through. But I don't think she's up to it tonight."

Hardison huffs, "You knew she was sick?"

Eliot grins; Hardison can't see it, but he feels the man's lips move against his throat, where that sinful mouth has gone back to tasting.

"Then why were you glaring at me?" Hardison feels compelled to ask.

Eliot laughs again, but finally pulls away enough to talk.

"How am I supposed to react when I come in expecting to find my... to find you, and wake you up in a very enticing way, but instead find you in bed with the girl you've been in love with for the past three years?"

Hardison blushes deeply, averting his eyes, even in the dark.

"Was," he stresses, "Was in love with her."

"I know," Eliot admits, "But it's fun to mess with you a little."

Before Hardison can reply, Parker's voice cuts through the tension, startling both men.

"If you two are gonna have sex, just do it already, so I can sleep. I'm sick."

Eliot collapses against Hardison, laughing into his shoulder.

Hardison is less amused.

"How long have you been awake?"

Parker snuggles deeper into the blanket.

"Since Eliot got here."

Eliot looks up at that, shoving Hardison over so he can lay on his side beside him, instead of on top of him.

"Why did you say anything?"

"I'm sick," Parker pouts, "And I thought you two might get naked. And that would make me feel better."

"You're insane," Eliot says, but his tone is that of endearment, not annoyance.

"Ain't gonna happen," Hardison adds, pushing back the pretty pictures in his head yet again.

Parker pouts again, "But I'm siiick."

Hardison's expression is stern. "Not. Gonna. Happen."

Parker sticks her tongue out at the hacker, in such a way that he can only be amused, but he keeps a straight face.

"Go to sleep, Parker. Or I'm dragging you to the hospital."

"Not strong enough," she says, trying to get a rise out of the man.

"Maybe," Hardison shrugs easily, "But Eliot is. And he's on my side."

Eliot leans up on one arm and drapes over Hardison to peer at Parker.

"It's true."

Parker just rolls her eyes, faintly visible in the rising sunlight, and turns her back to them, falling easily back into sleep.

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Parker wakes up a few hours later to use the bathroom. She walks back into the now fairly bright room, intending to lay back down beside her sleeping team members, but stops short when she notices that only Hardison remains on the bed. She senses more than hears Eliot come up behind her.

"Let him sleep; you know how much he hates mornings. Even when he's not being woken up every few hours."

She sways in place before she can respond, and Eliot's arms are around her in an instant, holding her steady.

"Let's get you to the guest room, I'll bring you some water."

"Juice," Parker insists, even as she's leaning more and more of her weight against Eliot.

Eliot just lets her lean, and leads her to the guest room before tucking her in snugly.

"One juice, coming right up."

"With a bendy straw?"

Eliot laughs. "Sure. Now, rest."

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Parker wakes up slowly, stretching out carefully in the unfamiliar bed. She knows it must be morning, if not afternoon, by now, but the heavy curtains keep the room blessedly dark. Swatting blindly, she grins with accomplishment as her hands find the switch to the bedside lamp.

The dim light is harsh against her eyes as she opens them, and it takes effort not to pull the blankets back over her head.

When her eyes finally adjust, Parker notices the tall glass of juice on the nightstand, complete with a green and yellow striped bendy straw. She sits up too quickly, and sags back against the headboard, closing her eyes again, against the wave of dizziness that hits her.

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Her eyes fly open again as the door pushes forward, allowing Eliot to make his way into the room, followed closely by Hardison. Parker looks at the tray in Hardison's hands with cautious interest.

"You brought me food?"

Eliot rolls his eyes and ignores the question, moving instead to feel Parker's forehead and check her pupils.

"Your fever is much better than yesterday, and your eyes don't look as glazed."

"It's just the flu, Eliot." Parker sounds tired, but her annoyance shows clearly on face. It's reassuring.

"Of course we brought you food, mama, I made it myself" Hardison says, as he moves to place the tray in front of her on the bed.

She looks down at the food; a bowl of her favorite cereal, another glass of juice, and a colorful display of diced fruit.

"You didn't make the fruit this pretty," Parker says. She gives Hardison a teasing grin.

"OK, Eliot helped," Hardison admits.

Parker giggles as Eliot growls audibly, moving to punch the hacker in the shoulder.

They all know it doesn't hurt.

"All you did was pour the milk and steal my banana," Eliot says, poking Hardison in the chest with each word.

Parker looks up from the food sharply, pulling her hands away from the food as if she was burned.

"There's no banana on this plate. What did you two _do_ in the kitchen?"

"Hardison got hungry," Eliot says, with a deadpan expression, "You should've seen it. Swallowed the banana whole."

Hardison closes his eyes against the burning of his skin, "I am so going to kill you."

Eliot just presses in close, slipping his arm around the hacker's waist and tracing his hipbone with a calloused thumb.

"You wouldn't hurt me, even if I begged you."

Parker pretends not to notice the way Hardison shivers at the hitter's words, but she can't pull her gaze away from the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard.

Eliot's hand moves ever so slightly over Hardison's belly, but Parker notices and reaches out a quick hand to grab Eliot's wrist, giving him a hard glare.

"Unless you two are gonna let me watch, stop that."

Hardison looks down to where Eliot and Parker's hands are rested, too damn close and not close enough, all at once.

"No way."

Hardison takes a step back, swatting the others hands away.

"You," he says, pointing to Parker, "Eat your breakfast before the cereal gets all soggy." He turns to point at Eliot, "And you, keep your hands to yourself."

"No fun," Eliot and Parker's voices ring out in unison.

Hardison just shakes his head.

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"I'm going to take a shower," he addresses Parker, "We already told Nate you were sick. He told us all to take the day off, so we could take care of you. Sophie will probably come by in a little while."

Parker pouts again, "It's just the flu. I don't need a babysitter."

"Who's the one who broke in and crawled into Hardison's bed?"

Parker just glares at Eliot, but she can't say anything. He has a point.

"OK," she replies instead, looking to Hardison, "Can I take one after you? I feel yucky."

Hardison smiles at her, and it's a mixture of kindness and exasperation.

"Never have to ask, girl, come on."

Parker may be smiling, but she hides it as she sips her juice. Hardison does his best to keep a straight face.

"Go," Eliot gives the other man a little shove.

Hardison goes.

Eliot shakes his head in annoyance, but he's still grinning.

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Parker finds the whole thing almost sickeningly sweet. She decides to change the subject.

"Where's my phone? I should call Sophie and tell her to bring me clean clothes."

Eliot pulls the phone from his pocket and tosses it to the girl, smirking when she catches it smoothly as ever.

"It was on the floor in Hardison's room."

Parker nods her thanks as she presses the buttons to call Sophie. Eliot just kind of fidgets in place, and the silence grows louder as they hear the shower start. Parker stares at him for a long moment before rolling her eyes and giving him a shooing motion with her arm.

"Oh, go ahead," she says, as the phone begins to ring, "But don't slip. Bones take too long to heal."

Eliot doesn't blush, but it's a near thing. It doesn't stop him from following Hardison's path to the shower, though.

Parker just sighs in exasperation as Sophie finally answers the phone.

"What's wrong?" Parker can hear the concern in Sophie's voice, even through the line.

"Boys." And really, it's all that needs to be said.

Sophie just murmurs in agreement.

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When Eliot and Hardison make their way back to the guest room, they find Parker laying down again, stretched out with her head resting on Sophie's lap. Sophie's holding a book with one hand and running her fingers through Parker's hair soothingly with the other. She's reading out loud, softly, but the men can't decipher what she's saying at first.

"Wait," Hardison says, as realization hits him, "Are you reading in French?"

"Oui," Sophie says with a smirk, before going back to reading.

Eliot shoots Parker an inquisitive look.

"You speak French?"

"Nope," Parker says, eyes still closed.

Hardison laughs; he can't say he's really surprised. Eliot just shakes his head.

Parker sits up slowly, signaling Sophie that story time is over. Sophie pulls her hand away from Parker's hair and continues reading her book silently.

"Is the shower safe?" Parker asks, wrinkling her nose in apprehension.

Eliot grins wickedly.

"We didn't exactly make it to the shower."

"Dude!" Hardison sighs. "_Seriously._"

"Can't say the same for the sink," Eliot continues, as if Hardison hasn't spoken, "Or the floor. Or the wall."

Sophie doesn't even look up from her book, but comments nonetheless.

"You both have wet hair."

Hardison sighs again.

"We took showers. Plural. Sep-er-at-ely."

Sophie says nothing, but her entire demeanor screams 'mm-hmm.' Hardison chooses to ignore her.

"I'm going out to grab some coffee," he says instead, making his way out. And if he stops to kiss his maybe kinda boyfriend on the way, well, let them watch. It's worth it to keep the happy smile on Eliot's face.

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Parker goes to shower, leaving Eliot and Sophie alone. Eliot actually feels the moment Sophie's attention turns from her book to his face, and she hasn't even spoken yet.

"What?" he snaps, mellow smile fading.

"I didn't say anything," Sophie says, serenely.

She goes back to her book. Eliot stands strong for a moment, arms crossed defiantly.

The silence stretches, growing louder and louder with each second.

Eliot begins to pace. Sophie goes on reading.

She turns the page slowly, and Eliot swears the sound is amplified beyond logical capability.

He finally snaps.

"Fine!"

Sophie looks up, smiling, "Yes?"

"I know you're dying to say something, Sophie. Just get on with it."

Sophie's smile drops, replaced by a concerned expression. She moves to stand, moving too close for Eliot's comfort, staring at him intensely. Eliot feels himself take a step back. The Butcher of Kiev, he can handle. But the full attention of Sophie Deveraux? It can still make him breathless.

"I just want to make sure you know what you're doing, Eliot." Her tone isn't accusing or angry or even disappointed. Merely concerned.

Eliot drops his defenses.

"I have no idea what I'm doing."

To his surprise, Sophie grins.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Good," she repeats. "If you didn't care about him, or if it was just about sex, you wouldn't admit to not knowing what you're doing."

Eliot just glares.

Sophie glares back.

He sighs.

"I care about him, alright? It's not just sex. Can we drop it now?"

"Only because Parker's outside the door."

Eliot turns sharply as the blonde comes out of hiding, before turning back to look at Sophie with incredulity.

"How did you do that? How do you both _always_ do that?"

Parker ignores the question and sits back on the bed, looking up at Eliot with sad eyes.

"My throat still hurts. Can you make me some tea?"

Eliot rolls his eyes, but heads to the kitchen anyway.

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The door clicks shut quietly behind Hardison as he makes his way back into the apartment. Eliot knows he's there, of course, has known since the moment the hacker's familiar footsteps reached the hallway. He doesn't say anything though, just sets the kettle on for the tea.

Hardison disappears for a minute and when he comes back his arms are empty.

Eliot finds that unacceptable.

Hardison apparently has the same idea and meets Eliot halfway, until they're standing barely an inch apart, and even that is too far. Hardison presses Eliot firmly against the counter, wrapping his arms around the hitter's waist.

"That's better," Eliot says, closing his eyes and resting his forehead to the other man's shoulder for just an instant.

Hardison, with all his easy going charm, isn't as naïve as he can appear, and knows something is off.

"What's wrong?"

Eliot looks up, instinctively trying to move away, but Hardison holds him still.

They both know he could get away if he tried, even a little, but they both also know that he wont.

"What are we doing?" he asks Hardison, in such a quiet voice, it's almost inaudible.

Hardison is caught off guard. Eliot's always been so sure of himself, it's almost unbelievable to see him look so vulnerable.

"I thought we were just gonna go with it?" he asks instead, "You having second thoughts?"

"No."

The sharpness in Eliot's voice makes Hardison smile.

"Well then, what's the problem?"

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Eliot admits, avoiding Hardison's eyes.

Hardison can't help it, he finds the hitter incredibly adorable at the moment. He reaches up with one hand and tugs on Eliot's hair with frustrated affection.

"You've always protected me. I know that won't change."

Eliot laughs, before leaning up to press his lips to Hardison's ear.

"You're such a girl."

Hardison tugs the other man's hair again, before letting his fingers slide through the long strands.

"Yeah, _I'm _the girl."

Eliot growls, but Hardison is already moving to kiss him, and the sound dies in the hitter's throat.

A few minutes later, the kettle whistles loudly. They don't hear a thing.

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Sophie leaves as night falls, giving the boys strict instructions to take care of Parker and not jump each other. At least until she was asleep. They don't dignify her remark with a response. She isn't offended.

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"What are we watching?"

Hardison and Eliot look up from their position on the couch, where they're engrossed in some medical drama.

"You look better," Hardison says, smiling as Parker makes her way to sit between them, shoving until they make enough room for her.

"I'm bored," she complains, even as Eliot is pulling an afghan over her legs and handing her the bowl of popcorn.

"Watch the show."

Parker huffs, but leans back against the couch, trying to focus on the screen.

After a moment, Hardison presses something cool into her hands, in place of the popcorn he takes from her.

She looks down at the lock and pick in her hands and smiles.

An hour later the three of them are fast asleep. Parker's laying on Eliot's shoulder, her feet resting on Hardison's lap. Her eyes flutter open for just a moment, and she remembers a day from the past, so much like this, and yet so different. Last time was simpler. It's so much more complicated now, but maybe that's OK, too. She has this theory; people are like locks. And sometimes it takes a long time to find the right combination of tweaks and slides, the exact maneuvers to make it all click. People are fiddly, but not impossible.

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Parker smiles and rests her head back against Eliot and closes her eyes again. The three of them? They're fiddly, and complicated, and damn near impossible. One hitter with a shady past, one hacker with a heart of gold, and one slightly broken thief, who considers both of them her family. But it's OK. She knows the combination. They click.


End file.
